A few years ago, a friend of mine got married on her family farm in Rice, Minnesota. On the way home to Cleveland from the wedding, my parents and I spent a night in Richland Center, Wisconsin– home of about 5,000 people. Our AirBnB was at the end of a long dirt road, the only neighbors two horses across the way. When I woke up in the morning and took my coffee to the front porch, I couldn’t believe how quiet it was. There was absolute silence. However, as I settled in and relaxed, I realized that it wasn’t silence I was settling into. It was a full orchestra of birds– serenading me with their morning song. It wasn’t quiet and still after all– there was lots going on when I slowed down long enough to listen.  

In the opening lines of today’s Gospel Jesus says, “Go out into the world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature.” It seems almost paradoxical, doesn’t it, the thought of proclaiming the Gospel to the creatures of the earth? How could I possibly consider proclaiming the Gospel to the birds, who are singing Gospel every morning? Or to the perennial grass that has just lived death and resurrection? Or to the sun who shines the Good News every day? Thomas Merton told us that “A tree gives glory to God by being a tree.” What more Gospel could a tree possibly live than existing as its very self? Just by being, the creatures of the natural world preach Gospel to us.

So what could Jesus possibly mean, proclaim the Gospel to every creature? We have far more to learn from the creatures than we have to teach.

So maybe there is a lesson here. What would it look like, if we approached evangelization, approached spreading the Gospel, in the same way that the natural world spreads the Gospel to us? Not with words and doctrines and the goal of conversion, but instead with radical presence, radical attention, and a demonstration of what it means to live authentically and with purpose every single day?

Today is Ascension Sunday. We remember today that we are called to carry on the mission that Jesus started, the mission of co-creating the Kin-dom of God. This is the beauty and the magic of the Christian faith– we are charged with becoming the Body of Christ that was introduced to the world at the Incarnation. How better to live like Jesus, how better to live the Gospel, then to take a lesson from the creatures? By living as we are called to live, by proudly living as we were fearfully and wonderfully made, we don’t just preach the Gospel. We embody it.

Our invitation, then, is not to tell others how they are to live. Instead, we are called to lean into our own becoming. The more we can learn to live boldly as ourselves, with integrity, with confidence, and with purpose, the more we will become the Body of Christ that our Christian faith compels us to become. This is how we are to evangelize— by demonstrating what it means to be embodied, fully alive, and rooted in purpose.  

And if you forget, if you’re tempted to assume Jesus’ charge is to prescribe your faith onto another or put another in a box that is not of their own making, take a moment to open a window. Or step out onto your front porch with your morning coffee. Close your eyes and listen to the birds. Their song is not prescriptive, or accusatory, or concerned. It’s just their bold proclamation of who they are.

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